Bitten
by agrey123
Summary: In the end, her death was just the beginning.
1. Prologue

Her eighteenth birthday party had been a relatively tame affair.

Karen had prepared a buffet, her father had baked a cake, and Toby had written a poem. A few of Sarah's friends had spent the evening at her house, along with her grandparents and an aunt or two. There'd been nothing special about it, really; it had been just another birthday party. And that was exactly how she had wanted it.

No fuss, no surprises, no magic, and absolutely _no _birthday wishes.

Whilst enough time had passed that her memories of the Labyrinth had blurred edges and black holes, Sarah was ever conscious of the existence of another world.

She slept with an open pair of iron scissors beneath her mattress, covered her mirrors before she climbed into bed each night, and always made sure that her window was locked.

It wasn't the Underground that she was afraid of: on the contrary, she had written two dozen different stories centred on her experiences – no, it was the retribution of the Goblin King that she feared the most.

She lay back in her bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling.

She'd felt a little unwell the whole day, a dull headache at her temples and a chill in her limbs that had made her shiver. Her symptoms hadn't been worrying or serious, just unpleasant. She'd taken aspirin for the headache and wrapped herself in an extra sweater, and all had been fine.

Until about an hour ago, anyway.

She'd taken a shower before bed, changed into her pyjamas and brushed her teeth, wishing herself a belated 'happy birthday' when the clock in the bathroom had displayed 11:24 – the time she had been born.

And then, upon entering her bedroom, a wave of dizziness had rolled over her and she had clutched the doorframe for support. She had staggered over to her bed and fought the urge to call for her father.

Her headache had blossomed into a migraine, nausea churned in her stomach, her arms and legs ached and her heart raced.

Sarah shivered and burrowed deeper beneath the covers, frowning at the feel of sweat on her temples.

_Of course _she would develop a fever on her birthday – that was just her life.

The end of her left pointer finger throbbed angrily, determined not to be left off of the list of symptoms. The sharp nips of pain had been increasing in duration and intensity for the past few hours and now Sarah cradled her hand to her chest. Her teeth chattered and she glanced at the window – it was closed.

Lacking neither the motivation nor the energy to retrieve another blanket, Sarah closed her eyes and hoped that sleep would not be long in arriving.

...

Opening her eyes, Sarah was first aware of flashing lights moving over her head.

Snatches of irrelevant conversations reached her ears, but the words swam meaninglessly in her mind.

_Septicaemia. _

_Hyperthermia. _

_Tachycardia._

_Hypotension. _

_Hyperventilation. _

Her head lolled to the side and her father's face appeared in her vision.

He was crying. His face was blotchy and flushed. He was talking to her – she couldn't understand. She was just _so_ tired. She felt a cool hand on her forehead and tried to recoil from the touch.

Her finger throbbed insistently and Sarah winced at the pain.

Her eyes closed again.

With her last conscious thought, Sarah pictured him in his Goblin armour.


	2. Chapter 1

The first thing Sarah became aware of was her breathing.

Rushed, frantic, painful.

Her lungs burned and she coughed at the feeling, rolling onto her stomach and pushing herself up on her hands and knees.

It took a while, but eventually her heartbeat settled and she was calm enough to take note of her surroundings.

She was outside. It was dusk. There was a waning moon rising.

Sarah sat back on her haunches and looked around. Her surroundings were familiar: high stone walls, tall privets, medieval carvings. She knew exactly where she was, but she couldn't find a reason for it in her recent memories.

She stood up and dusted off her knees, noticing for the first time that she was naked. It was November and she felt the chill in the air, but it didn't move her. She became aware of things flying in the air, and was spellbound by them for a moment until one settled on her shoulder. Remembering the creature that had bitten her, she brushed it off and took a step backwards, eying the fairies warily.

"Sarah?" a gruff tentative voice called from behind a statue, "Is that you?"

She spun round and narrowed her eyes, searching for the owner of the voice. "Who's there?"

"Jus' me; jus' Hoggle," the little man replied, stepping out from his hiding place. His eyes reached her face and he gaped. "Sarah... You're... You've... You're different," he settled on, unable to tear his gaze from the markings around her eyes, her straighter teeth, her longer nails. She noticed that he wasn't at all perturbed by her nudity.

"It's the magic," she replied in a distant tone, her mind reeling with a sudden flush of information. She reached out a hand and steadied herself against a wall. "The Labyrinth... It _saved_ me," she murmured in awe, holding out her arm and inspecting the flawless pale skin there.

"Wait 'ere," Hoggle said, and Sarah obediently stood still, staring into space as her mind wrapped itself around recent events.

After a while she felt a rough woollen blanket being pressed into her hands and wrapped it around herself, covering her bare chest, torso and upper thighs. She knotted the material and glanced down at Hoggle.

"Thank you."

Her eyes widened and she reached up to touch her face, her mouth falling open at the slightly-raised markings around her eyes. They were markings like _his_.

"The Labyrinth saved you?" Hoggle wondered, recalling their earlier topic. "From _what_?"

"I was dying," Sarah went on absently, "I _had_ died." Her recollection of her final moments was clear now, unhindered by dizziness or pain itself, but the memories were black and white; stirred no emotion, incurred no feeling. "It was my birthday... I had a fever... I died, Hoggle. The Labyrinth... It saved my life. Not my _human _life, but... I suppose it gave me a _new_ one." She lifted her left forefinger and stared accusingly at it. "My finger was burning." She held it out and showed it to him. "Look."

Hoggle took her hand into his larger one. Where her fingerprint should have been was an angry red lump, like a pimple. The head of the lump was sharp to the touch, and when Hoggle applied a little pressure to the offending area, the sharpness burst away and into his hand.

Sarah hissed at the pain and withdrew the digit, her eyes flashing inhumanely. "That _hurt_."

He squinted down into his palm and looked bewildered. "It's a rotten fairy tooth."

"Fairy tooth," Sarah repeated, "How did it get into my finger?"

The dwarf scratched his head. "Have you been doing any gardening recently? On'y, the fairies, they like ivy..."

"It was November," she replied, interrupting him, "Everything in the garden was dead. And there was no ivy growing on my house."

Hoggle shrugged, but wrapped the tiny tooth in a dirty handkerchief and stuffed it into his pocket for later consideration. He couldn't keep his eyes off of her, and yet couldn't quite place why.

And then a look of horror crawled over his face and he took a wary step away from her. "Sarah... you look like 'im," Hoggle pointed out, nudging her elbow and steering her towards the fountain. He gestured to the reflective surface of the water. "See."

Sarah glanced down at the mirror image. Her pin straight hair had thickened into tumbling black waves; it was longer, curlier. Her skin was paler, almost translucent in the twilight but for a light flush in her cheeks. The markings around her eyes matched Jareth's, and Sarah couldn't help but stare.

Her eyes were larger, greener, darker. Her ears were elfin and slightly pointed, her face itself more slender, her lips stained a permanent crimson.

Her limbs seemed more willowy and she swore that she was a good inch or two taller. And yet, she was still _her_. Underneath the expressionless airbrushed features, she was there.

"'e won't like it," Hoggle said, "The King. Threatened to drown me for 'elpin' you; banished Ludo to the mountains; Didymous 'as been put into the army. Don't know what 'e might do to you now yer here. We've not even been 'llowed to say yer name. People wrote books about you, about the peasant who beat the king to become the champion what broke 'is heart, and 'e killed them. 'e hates yer, Sarah. Yer shamed him. The King... He's never been the same since."

Sarah did not reply. She pressed her hands to her temples and applied a little pressure, a part of her mind remembering the throbbing that had once existed there. There was no tenderness, no feeling at all, really.

She squeezed her eyes closed and clenched her fists. "This is all _wrong,"_ she whined, "I don't understand!"

Hoggle cleared his throat. "Sarah? You're okay, aren't cha?"

Opening her palm to display a small crystal, Sarah slowly shook her head, glaring down at the shiny object. Her eyes shone and her voice shook. "No. I'm not okay at all."

Hoggle took her hand and guided her away from the entrance of the Labyrinth, jerking his chin in the direction of a small wooden cabin in the distance. "There," he said, not looking up at her, "My house. It'll be safe."

She nodded again, allowing him to pull her towards his home. "Okay," she replied quietly, her eyes wide and staring. "I'm scared."

"I'll not let nuthin harm you," Hoggle swore, "Not even _him."_

...

Upon reaching Hoggle's cabin, Sarah sank down into his small bed and curled up, neither knowing nor caring if it was appropriate. Had she been lying straight, her feet would have dangled well off the end and it wasn't even three feet wide. She shivered and closed her eyes, covering her face with her hands.

Hoggle stared sadly over at her, unknowing if he should be more afraid for his safety or hers.

* * *

She opened an eye at the scent of food. It smelled _off. _Hoggle continued his approach, none the wiser, but Sarah pressed her face into the pillow as her stomach began to churn. "_No," _she groaned. "I'm not hungry."

"Yer have to eat _somethin'_," Hoggle protested. "Yer've been asleep in me bed for two days. Rabbit stew will make yer nice and health again." Insistently, he shoved the bowl under her nose. "Sarah..."

"_No_," she repeated, "I _can't_. I'll be sick."

"Better to be sick from somethin' in yer stomach," the dwarf replied wisely, "Yer need to eat."

She reluctantly sat up and smiled softly at her friend. "I can't, Hoggle." Her voice was quiet and serious, and when she reached out to gently push the bowl back into his hands, Hoggle sighed.

However, the dwarf didn't long deliberate over her decision, and had soon polished off the bowl of stew himself.

"I'm worried about yer, Sarah," Hoggle said after a while, concerned by her paleness and the purple circles beneath her eyes.

"I'm worried, too," she said, "I'm craving _something_, but I can't place it."

Hoggle paled a little. "'s not peaches, is it?"

The word left a bitter taste in Sarah's mouth. "_No_," she replied, "I can't place what I want."

"Yer not a human anymore," Hoggle informed her quietly, turning away from her and staring out of one of the small windows. "I can feels it."

"I know," Sarah whispered, picking at the blanket and suddenly feeling self conscious that she was so scantily clad. She swallowed thickly and winced at the dryness in her throat, made worse by the momentous yawn that followed.

Hoggle gaped at her, recoiling a little at the sight. "Yer teeth..."

She reached up to touch them, wincing at their sharpness. "I can't help it," she choked out, "I can't stop it."

Fleetingly, the thought of summoning the Goblin King to his little hut crossed Hoggle's mind, but it was chased away by images of Jareth burning men in the streets.

"I'll help yer, Sarah," Hoggle promised, "Somehow."

...

It had been six days since she had woken up in the Labyrinth and Sarah had yet to move from Hoggle's bed. The gardener had taken to leaving her for a couple of hours during the day to attend to his duties, but she hadn't even risen to use the bathroom.

The urge simply hadn't been felt, so she had stayed wrapped in her little blanket, staring into space and feeling terribly sorry for herself. She was utterly _ravenous, _but when presented with food was forced to turn her face away to avoid vomiting directly into the bowl being offered to her. She had managed three sips of water, and even that had made her stomach churn.

She was slowly beginning to starve to death – this she was very much aware of. Even if a food to satiate her appetite had been discovered, Sarah doubted that she would have the strength to chew it. She was growing ever weaker, sleeping for longer periods, waking only to the sound of her own racing heart or Hoggle's insistent shaking of her shoulders.

He was expecting to come home and find her emaciated and dead: she could see this in his eyes, and it sickened her.

She had seen her reflection in the one silver spoon Hoggle owned and it had made her turn her face away in disgust. Her hair was lank and greasy, her skin sallow, her lips dry and cracked; her eyes seemed sunken and the skin on her face appeared to be stretched too thinly over her features.

...

"Tell me about him," Sarah rasped, "About the king."

Hoggle was sitting by the fire, drinking goblin ale and watching the flames dance.

"'e's a bad man but a good King," Hoggle replied without looking at her, "Won a war that'd been wagin' for a hundred years when 'e took the throne. Been King of the Goblin Realm and High King of the Underground ever since. Nigh on five centuries, now. No-one dared to challenge 'im or the way 'e ruled. Until 'e believed 'imself in love with you."

"Then what happened?" she asked, her eyes opening a little wider as she shifted on the bed. The movement made her skin chafe on her bones and she flinched, trying not to groan at the feeling. Out of her imminent and recent deaths, Sarah preferred the first option. Fast, relatively merciful compared to this _hell._

"'is defeat started rumours that 'is power was gettin' weaker, that mortals would soon be travellin' freely through our lands, that the King's power was wanin'. Then those blasted books appeared everywhere, tryin' to rally people to go to war with the people of the Above, and 'e went right mad, 'e did, finding the men who'd written them. 'e was angry at the way they made _you_ and yer kind appear. 'e said 'e alone 'ad the right to call you cruel, that you were too young to appreciate the offer 'e made you. 'e told everyone that he'd let yer win, because 'e saw a pure 'eart in you. Said you were a child and not a woman grown and bein' a child meant you 'ad the right to be immune to this realm. 'e burned all those books with the men who'd writ' them, but kept a copy of each for 'imself, so 'e would always remember how dangerous humans could be. 'e tightened 'is hold on the kingdom. 'e made the Labyrinth harder, more dangerous: runners can die, now. Oh, they wake up in their beds right enough, as if from a bad dream, but if they die the child is lost. Didn't want a repeat of yer performance, no doubt."

"I think I was in love with him, too," Sarah whispered, lowering her eyes. "He was the devilish villain from my favourite storybook... I loved him as soon as I could read... But he had Toby. I had to beat him."

"Do yer still love 'im?"

As much as she was able to, Sarah shrugged. "It's been two and a half years," she replied, "I don't know him. I don't think I ever did."

"Only 'e can buy peaches, now," Hoggle went on, still not looking at her, "'e made them illegal. Said they were too good for the common folk. Upset the Unseelie Court, that did, but there ain't much they can do about it since it's 'is goblins what grows them."

Sarah swallowed again. "Have you seen him?"

"I sees him all the time. 'e comes when 'is name is said if 'e thinks it's necessary." He turned to her with a deep sadness in his eyes, his previous resolve to keep her hidden ebbing away as he took in her form. It had been eight days, now, since her arrival, and she was beginning to look like a living skeleton. "'e don't like secrets."

"I can't keep yer here anymore, Sarah," he admitted quietly, "Yer dying... You need magic."

Sarah shivered and closed her eyes.

* * *

There was a tugging in his chest. His ears burned.

Jareth blearily opened one eye and raised a crystal to his iris. He stared into the room, watching with unwitting curiosity as the familiar looking dwarf bumbled around the small space.

Hoggle seemed to be pacing, glancing warily around him as if afraid that the King would appear beside him at any moment.

This intrigued Jareth. What on earth could the dwarf be hiding from him? His face clouded over at the thought of being betrayed for a second time, and within seconds was staring down at the worried looking little man.

Hoggle – wisely – fell to his knees. "Yer Majesty," he began, "I needed ter see you."

Jareth raised his eyebrows, folding his arms and leaning back to perch on a table. He crossed his legs at the ankles and cocked his head. "Do tell."

Wordlessly, Hoggle pointed across the room. Jareth turned and scoffed. "Caught yourself a little prize, have you?"

"Not quite," Hoggle replied carefully, "It's Sarah. She needs yer help."


End file.
